The snow that was supposed to begin at midnight last night began at about 10:30 a.m. today. It's right white out there. In anticipation of being housebound today, this morning I posted a casual inquiry to a food group I participate in. I was curious to know if I was the only person who's never made macaroni and cheese from scratch. The thread lengthened and for all that, it seems there may be one or two others of us mac and cheese virgins.

I decided I should give it a go and today would be a good a day for it. Mind you, this was done only in the spirit of adventure since Rob isn't inclined to eat the stuff. There's a funny story about that. . . .

I stopped at Cub on my way home from church and picked up some large Creamette elbow mac, Jarlsberg, some Cabot Bacon-laced cheddar, and some Wisconsin-made havarti. Cub must have a deal with the Wisconsin dairymen because they have an awful lot of Wisconsin-made cheeses.

I looked at some recipes online and as is my wont, used them mostly for ingredients and not so much for measures. I did, however, measure what I did this morning.

My first step was to pull out and plug in Rosie, my portable induction cooker unit. I put about 4-1/2 quarts of water in my big Fagor pressure pan (the 6-quart pan), put its colander inside and set the water to heating.

While the water was heating I made the breads into crumbs in the food processor, then shredded the cheeses (with a handheld grater) and arbitrarily decided on about 2 ounces of each type of cheese. I chose the Jarlsberg and havarti because I saw them in a couple of the recipes I looked at; I bought the Cabot bacon-laced cheddar because it sounded interesting, and I had a package of Cub's house brand shredded cheddar taking up space in a fridge drawer.

When the macaroni was tender (I cooked it past "almost tender") I pulled the colander out of the water and set it in the sink to finish draining. I figured a quick rinse would be a good idea and I did and it was.

I made the white sauce in the 4-quart pressure pan, prepared in the usual and customary fashion for making a basic white sauce.

You know, melt the butter, add the flour, cooking until bubbly. Whisk in everything else and cook until it has thickened. With those measures, the white sauce was on the thin side. I was okay with that, knowing the cheeses would thicken it up.

I stirred in the cheeses one at a time, whisking until each had melted and incorporated into the sauce. One of the things I like about my induction burner is that when you turn it off, it's off.

When I turned it off, I stirred in the macaroni then turned all of it into a buttered Corningware flattish casserole/roaster dish. It was a full fit – but it did all fit. Am I lucky or what? I spooned, poured, and patted the breadcrumbs on the surface and put it into my preheated oven (400°F.) and left it there for 20 minutes.

I stuck a spoon in it and decided it passed muster nicely. I think it's a bit on the bland side and if I ever do it again, I'll probably 86 the havarti and use more cheddar. I thought about embellishing the dish with some bacon or Polish sausage I have on hand and decided against it.

I ate my fair share of it, then called my next door neighbor, Dennis, to inquire what his household's stance on macaroni and cheese is. "We all eat it." Hot diggity dog! I brought it over and Dennis could hardly wait to tie into the crunchy bread crumb topping.

Next time I'll add some minced onion to the roux – I forgot to do that and believe onion will be a nice addition to my dish.

My mom used to make mac and cheese occasionally and I remember not liking it because it was tasteless. This was better by far, but still lacked some oomph. Next time. Probably in another 5 years or more.

Dobrú chut´.

Mission accomplished.

Oh, about that funny story. I did not know how to cook when I married Rob nearly 47 years ago. One of my first meals for a Friday supper was macaroni and cheese and, for a green vegetable, cooked spinach. That was the night I learned he doesn’t eat macaroni and cheese and he doesn’t eat cooked spinach. Whoops! I think I opened a can of Hormel chili that night.